Had a scary dream about there being no money on our card.

So Maliheh inspired me to jump back on the diet wagon (thanks, girl!) and I’m dropping back down again. I can fall from 129 pounds to 125 pounds in just a couple of days. The hard part is getting under 125. I would look ok at 120, better at 110 and best at 100, but will settle for 115.

Should I “pop” my belly? You know, as in puke up what I eat after I’ve had a few minutes to enjoy the sensation of having something in my stomach? Been thinking about it lately, though it’s something I’ve never done before. I just don’t think I could bring myself to do it. Puking is gross. But the ole “stuff and pop” method does seem to work for some people. I know I could lose weight the healthy, old-fashioned way if I really wanted to, but I hate being hungry all the time. Whichever way I go about it, I suppose I should try to lose at least a little weight before it gets out of hand. I talked about puking with Tom and right away he urged me not to do it, saying the esophagus isn’t meant to handle all that stomach acid, it gets addicting, is a waste of food and money, etc. sighs I’m not sure what to do. I think I could control myself and not get so carried away with it. But if only I could bring myself to actually do it to speed things up! I’ll still work out and stay in shape. I may not work out as often as I should, but I’m still strong, fit and fast and I have been for most of my life. I try to run a mile most days and do a couple of hundred ab crunches. Now I just need to figure out how to bring myself to puke up at least one meal a day.

Jesse was down on some other dirt bike Tom’s never seen before while he was cleaning out the shed. Fortunately, it didn’t wake me up. I got up at 11am with a stuffy nose, then went back to sleep till around 3pm. He said something about possibly having to go down to L.A. on a job. I hope not! Not just in case of an emergency, but because I’ll be the one to have to deal with the barking all night long if he does. They may not like to go off during the hot days, but at night it just might sound almost as bad as a winter day with those things left alone up there. Again, why have dogs if you’re never home? He’s been in and out on the motorcycle and in the truck. He’s rarely home longer than to shit, shower and sleep. In fact, now that the sun is setting and the temperature is dropping, the dogs are going crazy right now.

My new shoes are up in West Sac from Anaheim, so I’ll get them on Monday or Tuesday.

Ok, on with the latest “questions,” that were waiting for me when I got up. They only answered half of mine and the ones they did answer I have no way of knowing if they’re even true or not. I do know I’m losing interest in this game and getting bored fast. Nothing’s changed. It’s just the same old, same old. They continue to cower in the dark while they swear they’re not the least bit afraid of me. Then why all the anonymity? I won’t block them out, but I may put them on ignore unless they’re willing to really start leveling with me and play this game fairly. What I mean by playing it fairly is by telling the truth and keeping their word. Do they really expect me to believe they eat pussy for a living like they said? Why don’t they just not answer what they don’t want to answer? They didn’t want to tell me their eye color or orientation. Ah, but they do know foreign languages, so they say, and they liked my sense of humor best about me. Yeah, that’s what most people say they like best about me besides being for real and not being afraid to tell it like it is. If you asked me for my opinion, I’d tell you your new outfit’s ugly if that’s what I truly thought and risk offending you before I told you what you wanted to hear.

The sense of humor thing doesn’t make sense for Maliheh, though. She didn’t give herself a chance to get to know me long enough to see if I had a sense of humor. Then again, it doesn’t take much to get a person laughing and joking. I probably cut some joke or gave some sarcastic answer/comment about something at the bar.

If it’s true that they really know another language and aren’t just lying to throw me off (unless they consider swears, gibberish or slang to be their foreign language) then it’s definitely not Andy, Tammy or Jenny, and almost certainly not Joely, either. Although I don’t know which language it could be, Maliheh seems like the foreign language type. She was at least interested in sign language.

Sometimes I wonder if I should stop writing about them as they obviously love it when I do. Would they get sick of me if I stopped answering their questions and writing about them? Ah, but right or wrong, I do gotta admit this is kinda fun. I just might miss them if they disappeared, but like I also said before, they’re really starting to bore me and get old.

Later…

It’s Andy. Yeah, he’s the one who’s been giving me a run for my money on Formspring, and no there is no doubt it’s him. He said too many things that my other “suspects” couldn’t possibly know.

Am I disappointed the game’s over and that it’s not Maliheh? Yeah, kind of. Am I surprised it’s Andy? No, though some of the things he said still make no sense. Maybe I had more than one person harassing me, or maybe he threw in some weird ones to try to throw me off, but I’ll never know for sure.

Well, the convo I posted that was fake and staged totally by yours truly as a means of trying to flush them out worked! Guess I’m just too damn good, except that they said I fucked up and wrote “her” where it should’ve been “me.” Oops!

He doesn’t believe it, but I am going to keep my word about not revealing his identity in my online journal. There’s no reason I can’t give him that much and respect his wishes. I deactivated my Formspring account because I knew that if I left it open, people would know who he was. Besides, it’s no longer fun for me now that I know who it is, and I’m sick of Molly, even though she’ll probably bug me elsewhere to try to get at Alison. Andy knows there are other means of contacting me if he would like to continue to talk, and it’s only deactivated, not deleted.

he told me everything that he was upset about, and I must admit I was shocked. Not just by how hurt and angry he’s been, but because I honestly don’t remember doing half the things he accused me of. I’m not shitting either. I tried to remind him that our memories do decline with age. In fact, Tom and I were talking about that just the other day. For the longest time I was notorious for having a great memory, but over the last couple of years or so I can see a difference in both my short and long-term memory. When I do my proofreading of old journals, I’m stunned to find all the things I’d forgotten about. And sometimes reading about them doesn’t always trigger the memory, and I try and I try but I still can’t recall it. I’m not saying I didn’t do some of the things he accused me of. If it’s true I really did some of the things I don’t remember, I think he’s mistaking my intentions. Growing up as kids we pulled so many pranks on so many people. And into our adulthood, too. And as he himself always said, I was always the perfect actress. So I think I might’ve been a little too convincing in some ways and that he thought I was dead serious when I was really just fucking with him. He said he thought I had totally gone over the edge. He said he’s going to call from a blocked number tomorrow night and play a tape of me threatening him. It will be interesting to see if I remember that, too.

But I swear I don’t remember writing in the journals I sent him before moving that he was raped and had to go to the hospital. Or that he had Laura and Michelle watch me in parked cars outside our house.

I said it was up to him whether or not we keep in touch, but I’m not sure if that’s really such a good idea for either of us, especially him. After all we’ve been through he’s never going to take me for face value and believe a thing I say. He’s always going to believe I’m lying and out to burn and then dump him. He doesn’t seem to understand that not everything I tell him is a lie. In fact, very rarely have I lied to him. But yes, I did say and do some mean things. Things that were unnecessary and that he didn’t deserve.

He also seemed defensive of Tammy and her kids and that really bothered me. Like how dare I write about the hell they put me through, right? That’s like me being raped and beaten, writing about it in my journal, then being chided for having the nerve to “treat” them that way! But yet he asked why I would want contact with someone else that caused me a lot less grief than Tammy and her kids ever did.

I’ve done a lot of things wrong in my life and I have hurt some people along the way. But some people really HAVE hurt ME for no reason whatsoever. Why would I want to say or write that someone fucked me over that didn’t? And why should I be ashamed of writing about those who did? That’s what journals are for – to write about the good people/times and the bad ones as well. And while he’s certainly entitled to their opinion, I don’t know if I can be friends with someone who could side with those who have abused or hurt me in any way. Tammy calling the cops on me for trying to stick up for her (even if I didn’t do it in the greatest way) after Bill abused her and Lisa, surprise warrant out for me at the time or not, was WRONG. Even if Tammy apologized right now, how do I know she wouldn’t make trouble for me in the future the next time she got pissed at me?

He probably thinks what happened with the old neighbors and their corrupt pig pal was bullshit as well, but like I said, he’s entitled to his opinion. I just don’t know if I can be friends with someone who’s determined to call me a liar on everything I say as much as I care about him and want nothing but the best for him. Still, I understand why he finds it hard to trust me, and like I said, we don’t have to agree on everything. Like with carrots. He loves carrots – ewwwww!!!! I hate ‘em! Is he the one who loves anchovies, too? As I said, I can’t remember everything I ever saw, heard, said, and did.

I’m not trying to shift blame or deny the mistakes that I’ve made. I have no problem with accepting blame that’s rightfully mine. What do I have to lose by doing so? Some things really are my fault, and no, I’m not perfect, and yes, I sometimes fuck up. So if I’ve owned up to some of the mistakes I’ve made with him, then why does he think I’d refuse to own up to all of them? Yet I honestly don’t recall some of the things he accused me of. Well, I’m saying it right here in print. Yes, I have made mistakes. Some of them I don’t remember. Some may be misconstrued. And some I do remember. But I really do make mistakes and I’m sure I always will.

I contemplated stopping public journaling because I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings or make them angry simply because I write something that I perceive to be true. But then said, nah. Why give up something I love to do? It’s a big hobby for me and I shouldn’t have to stop just because some people are bound to get offended. We all say shit some people aren’t going to like and I’m certainly no exception. Whether you know me personally or not, you’re gonna get pissed at times or at least disagree with some of the things I say. Period. And that’s ok. I accept that much. But should we really be friends again with so much distrust between us? It was wrong of me to do what I did to him. I mean the big, main picture where I simply moved without giving him our new address and number. I may not remember most of what he accused me of, but that still doesn’t mean I didn’t fuck him over. But what he doesn’t get is that I didn’t do it to hurt him or piss him off or because he did anything wrong to me other than get on my nerves at times. My reasons were part of a huge and complex thing that goes far beyond just him. But I DID hurt him, intentionally or not. I did. So he has no reason to trust me. He may not wish me dead, but he should hate me and not want a damn thing to do with me if I put them through as much emotional bullshit as he said I did.

I have no reason or excuse for what I did. None. I guess I just felt compelled to “wipe” the slate clean when we left Phoenix. New house, new town, new people. And not that this is any excuse either, but I didn’t want him pressuring me to remain in contact with my folks. I needed that 10-year break. I really did.

Shit, I drank nearly a gallon of water. No wonder I’m such a little pissaholic.

So anyway, he was also “appalled” at how I treated my nieces. So I should have been kind enough to stay in their lives and let them continue to send me all kinds of nasty and threatening messages simply because we’re related? Just sit back, smile sweetly and take their craziness and their abuse? I don’t get that. I really don’t.

I know that the vast majority of people think one should take and accept abuse from those who are “family” just because they are family, but I just can’t do that. I did it for 30 or so years, but I just can’t do that anymore. I guess I have too much self-respect for myself. You abuse me, and you’re outa my life. Period. And it doesn’t matter how long I’ve known you or if we share any blood. And no one’s obligated to keep in touch with me either.

But in the end, no matter what happens from here on out and no matter how much “Yes, you did, bitch!” “No, I didn’t, asshole!” he and I may go through, he will always have a special place in my heart. How could he not? We shared so many good times. A lot of bad times, but good times, too. I mean it when I say his worst fault was being annoying, just like we all can be.

I won’t give up writing about present times, but maybe I should at least back out of publishing the Arizona journals or keep them in a place where he won't see them. We’ll see. Even if we never talk again, I don’t want to piss him off anymore or hurt him. dabs eyes I’m sending him a hug in my mind and I hope he can sense it. I think he deserves a friend better than me.

Speaking of being related, he was once more like family to me than anyone else, and I think in a way he always has been and always will be, as strange as it may sound. Damn! Fuck! Damn! Shit! Why’d I have to go and do all the things I did??? Here’s where some people would tell me there was no point in beating myself up over past mistakes I can never undo, but I can’t help it. Damn! Fuck! Shit! Mierda! Cazzo (meirda is Spanish for shit and cazzo is Italian for fuck)! Shit, I forgot my German lesson (I don’t know how to swear in German yet).

I wonder if he really has learned other languages or if that was just a throw-off.

And what’s this about me being pissed for our house selling for 2K less. He said this has nothing to do with me, but Jodi, realtors do that all the time. They want to sell the house. Yeah, I know they do. But why would I say or write that when in fact we got way more than we expected for the Phoenix house (85K) and 5K for the Maricopa house? Ok, is HE playing with MY head or is somebody mixed up here? We didn’t know what we were going to get for Maricopa and I don’t remember us having any expectations either way. We’d only owned it for 4½ years and fell way behind on the payments before we lost it when Tom was fired for not being a religious freak at work and wanting to mix business with pleasure. And yes, I kid you not, they really fucked my husband over good.

He said he doesn’t know why, but it bothers him when I blame God for my problems. Yeah, that’s another thing we’re never going to agree on. If someone murders an innocent child, it may be entirely the murderer’s fault, but why did God allow it to happen? Why??? I’m totally convinced there’s always been and always will be some outer force against me. But maybe it’s not God. Maybe I just call it God because I don’t know what else to call it.

But this doesn’t mean I don’t think I’ve been blessed at the same time I’ve been cursed. I have. I really have.

I don’t know what’s going to happen from here on out. I guess I’ll just have a wait-and-see attitude. I just feel he deserves a better friend and that I should stick to those who trust me. I don’t think he really wants to be friends, though, because he won’t give me his number or email, but that’s ok. It’s his right. :)

I know he loves these loooooong, interesting posts, but I’m getting kind of beat. Yeah, he’s been running me ragged, LOL. And I’ve been neglecting my work, stories and language lessons. He doesn’t believe I work and that I have a medical condition, though somewhat rare, that prevents me from keeping a schedule, but I really do gotta at least make some money.

I’m not really going to puke my food up. It’s a nice thought, but definitely something easier said than done. Puking is disgusting. I’d rather just stay fat.